I am remembering the garden state -- corn and waiting for it to grow, knee-high by the 4th of July. Here, in the banana belt of San Francisco, I await the Russian kale to grow a bit higher. Soon, very soon.
A salad, of course. It's the poem to accompany which will be the surprise.
Meanwhile, the farmers markets are flush with fava leaves. Yes, leaves of the fava.
cp 181 crime scene 12
ReplyDeletemanifold diagram
set of wrenches
rusty top of nail can
a metric ruler
two sets of small hammers
what looks like a compact
not much powder left
a light rouge color
but old
a small kid keeps looking at the couch
check pillows--
two patterns do not match
large supply of white bread
no kale